


Favorite Christmas Story

by professionalmomfriend (mothmanwashere)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, M/M, song inspired fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothmanwashere/pseuds/professionalmomfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I met him up in Delaware when I was twenty-seven. He was wearing red sneakers, and had dimples like the Grand Canyon. December twenty-fourth at a quarter to eleven. I'm so glad he got the courage to ask me to dance."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favorite Christmas Story

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired and based on "Favorite Christmas Story" by Capital Lights.  
> Happy Christmas, everyone!

Sam Winchester checked his cell phone for the umpteenth time since he had arrived at this Christmas party. He hated Christmas parties. Always had, and expected he always would. He'd been dragged here by his cousin to her girlfriend's brother's friend's party, and he knew no one here except for said cousin and her girlfriend, who had long since disappeared into the crowd. Now Sam was stuck here until midnight, when his brother would arrive to pick him up. It was currently... 10:43. 10:43 on a Christmas eve in Delaware. How had he been talked into this again?

Sam took another sip of his beer and sat back. He let his eyes casually wander back to the other side of the room, where stood the man Sam had been oogling all night. The one with the slicked-back gold hair and the red bow tie who looked to Sam like a wet dream on legs. He had decided that one dance with that guy would make the whole ordeal worth it.

That decision had come 43 minutes ago.

Sam let out a heavy sigh and checked his phone again. 10:44. Damn. He needed to stop that. What was the saying? A watched pot never boils? Well, in his case, a watched clock never ticked. It felt like he'd been here for an eternity, not less than an hour.

Sam swirled the liquid in the bottom of his bottle. The attractive bow-tie guy was moving through the crowd, heading toward Sam. Oh god. Oh god, this was his chance. He stopped at the refreshment table beside which Sam sat and poured a small glass of punch. Sam's breath halted in his chest with a pair of the most incredible, golden-hazel eyes landed on him, and the guy's lips quirked in an amused smile. Sam felt his cheeks flush and he dropped his gaze into the rim of his beer bottle.

“Hey.” Sam looked up. The guy was in front of him now, calling for Sam's attention over the sound of music and various chatter filling the house. 

Sam nearly choked on his beer, but nodded. “Hey,” he replied. He sat his beer to the side and gathered up all his courage. “Do you want to dance?”

The guy smiled and held out a hand to Sam, pulling him into the swaying crowd and latching his hands around Sam's shoulders. “I thought you'd never ask,” the guy admitted as Sam awkwardly deliberated where to put his hands. The smirk on the guy's face deepened. “You can put your giant man hands on my waist, yanno,” he said, having to almost yell in order to be heard over the music. “So, I've never seen you around. Are you friends with Kevin?”

“Who?” Sam asked.

The guy only smiled. “Guess not. Where you from?”

“Here and there,” Sam replied. “My brother and I travel a lot. Never stay in one place for long. What about you?”

“Born and raised right here,” the guy replied. “Some people hate small towns, but.. you know, I don't think it's so bad here. I kinda like it.”

Sam smiled. The guy smiled back. He lost track of time.

When they parted at midnight, Sam couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

“So what's their name?” Dean asked, steering his grinning brother toward their car.

“Huh?”

“Them. Whoever's got you grinning like an idiot,” Dean smirked. “What's their name?”

Sam's face fell. “I didn't ask.”

Dean quirked a questioning brow, but only shrugged as he started his car and pulled away. Sam stared at the house in the rearview mirror, his happiness still lingering in the form of a small smile on his lips.

Sam had never believed in love at first sight, but if anything was to be love at first sight... it would have been that. 

*~*~*~*~*~* 

Gabriel Novak grinned up at the waitress handing him a menu. It was Christmas day, and this diner had been the only thing open for miles. He pitied the poor blonde who had to work today, but she seemed in good spirits. Her long hair was tied up in pigtails, and she wore a santa hat and a blinking necklace that looked like Christmas lights. “I'll have the special and a Pepsi,” Gabriel grinned, flashing her a wink. She nodded and gave him a big smile before turning away to put in his order. Gabriel glanced outside and admired the falling snow for a long while, before he heard the waitress returning with his soda. She sat it on the table, and slid into the booth across from him. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, but smiled. “Christmas is my favorite day of the year,” she told him.

“Really?” Gabriel asked. “Mine too. Got lots of good memories of Christmas.”

“Feel like spreading a little holiday cheer?” She asked, smiling. Gabriel glanced at her name tag.

“Are you asking for a Christmas story, Miss Jo?”

The waitress smiled. “Yes sir, I am. If it isn't too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Gabriel replied. “It's the least I can do for making you work on Christmas.”

Jo waved a hand. “If you hadn't come it, I'd still be here. So....” Jo grinned, folding her hands in anticipation of the story. “Got a good one?”

“Oh yeah,” Gabriel said, his eyes gleaming. “It's my favorite Christmas story about a boy with no name.”

Gabriel took a breath and tipped his head thoughtfully. “It was Christmas eve, two years ago. I was at a Christmas party my neighbor Kevin had invited me to. It was tons of fun, and I knew practically everyone. There was one kid though,” Gabriel said, a wistful look in his hazel eyes. “I didn't know him. Never seen him before in my life. No one else afterward seemed to know who he was either.” Gabriel wrinkled his nose with a laugh. “You couldn't miss him. I made him the second he walked in.” He stretched one hand above his head for emphasis. “A good six feet, maybe even six and a half. Brown hair, brown eyes. Dimples deeper than the Grand Canyon. A smile like you wouldn't believe. Just wearing jeans and a button-up, and some red Chucks. He wasn't trying half as hard as most the people there, but he looked twice as good anyway.” Gabriel chucked softly and looked down at the ice floating in his Pepsi. “He was staring at me for a good half hour before I decided to get a little closer. I'll never forget it. A quarter to eleven, Christmas eve. I asked him to dance with me, and he said yes. Spent over an hour just talking and dancing and getting to know each other.” Gabriel couldn't stop his grin, but he didn't care. He brought his eyes up from the table to look the young waitress in the eye. Her head was tilted to one side, and Gabriel could tell she was a romantic at heart. “I fell in love that night.”

“So what happened?” Jo asked excitedly.

Gabriel shook his head and gave a self-deprecating smile. “His ride came at midnight, and we said our goodbyes. I never even got his name.”

Jo looked stricken. “That's horrible!”

Gabriel smiled. “Not ideal, I'll agree,” he said. “But I'll find him. Someday. I just know it.”

Jo smiled. It was a familiar smile. The same smile his brother had given him when Gabriel had told him he would find the red-shoed sasquatch someday. The same smile everyone gave him. It was the smile that said they wished him the best, but they weren't holding their breath. Gabriel didn't care anymore. He'd meet his prince charming again. He just had to wait.

“I'll go get your dinner, sweetie,” Jo said, pushing out of the booth. “I hope you find your dance partner.”  


*~*~*~*~*~* 

The sound of the doorbell pierced through the quiet house, and Sam looked up from his book. He stood and went to answer the door, smiling at the small group of children standing on the stoop. “Is it time already?” he asked, a smile on his face. They nodded fervently, and Sam let them inside.

He'd long since settled down from life with Dean on the road. He now lived with Dean and Dean's wife Lisa, in a nice little house in a small town somewhere in Kansas.

The neighborhood kids had taken to Sam like a fish to water. Lisa's son Ben and one of his friends had asked Sam for a story about his life on the road once, and now the 53 year old bachelor was the town's favorite story-teller. It was an annual tradition by now on Christmas eve for all the kids in the neighborhood to come over before dark, and Sam would tell them all a few stories. He tried to mix up the Christmas stories every year – he had 50 years of Christmases to choose from after all – but the kids had learned by now that there was one story he told ever year without fail. They all knew the story, word for word, because he always told it the same way every year. It was his favorite Christmas story about a guy with no name and a red bow-tie.

“Come on in, kiddos,” Sam said, motioning for them all to take a seat by the fireplace. Lisa brought in a tray of Christmas cookies, while Dean sat in the corner with an eggnog. “Let's see. I suppose you all want a story, eh?”

There was a resounding chorus of yeses, cheers, and nodding heads. Sam chuckled. “Well, let's see. It was Christmas eve, up in Delaware.”

“And you saw a man in a red bow-tie!” one child supplied helpfully. Sam nodded, a nostalgic smile on his face and a slight pang in his chest.

He wondered, for the umpteenth time in his life, where the man with the red bow-tie was now, and if he still remembered Sam as well as Sam remembered him.  


*~*~*~*~*~* 

One last Christmas morning. That's what Sam told himself. This would be his last Christmas. He didn't mind so much. He'd never been afraid of death or dying, he sort of just wanted to get it over with. Stop being just another dying old man taking up a hospital bed.

There was a shuffling noise, and a voice reached his ears. “Hey there, kiddo.”

Sam's lips turned up in a tired smile. “Hi Gabriel.”

The volunteer sat down in a chair beside Sam's bed, his wrinkled old hands holding a book. He was even older than Sam, but Sam was convinced the man was far too energetic and stubborn to ever die. In the past few weeks, Sam had enjoyed Gabriel's company immensely. “Merry Christmas, Sam. Ready for me to read to you?”

Sam shook his head and coughed.

“What's the matter, Sammy?” Gabriel asked quietly, setting the book down and taking one of Sam's hands in both of his own.

“It's all... gone,” Sam said. “I used to be the story-teller, did you know?” Gabriel didn't know, of course. But he didn't mind listening. “The children... would all come over on Christmas and I would... tell them stories from my life on the road. They're all grown now,” Sam said quietly. “My brother's gone, too. I don't have anyone left.”

“You've got me, Sammich,” Gabriel said gently, squeezing Sam's hand.

“Would you mind shedding a little holiday cheer?” Sam asked weakly.

“A Christmas story, you mean?” Gabriel asked. Sam nodded. Gabriel settled back in his chair, still holding Sam's hand. “I've got the perfect one.” Gabriel took a breath, but Sam's eyes filled with tears at the words he spoke, because Sam's favorite Christmas story was the one that Gabriel told.

“I met him up in Delaware when I was twenty-seven. He was wearing red sneakers, and had dimples like the Grand Canyon. December twenty-fourth at a quarter to eleven. I'm so glad he got the courage to ask me to dance.”


End file.
